Requiem
by TheNightsTerror
Summary: A young girl named Enna, who is currently in her Fourth Year at Hogwarts, starts experiencing black outs more and more frequently as time progresses. What she has trouble figuring out, though, is why this is happening to her. Does it have something to do with her mysterious past? Or is it maybe the sign of trouble brewing? Only time will tell. ;Discontinued.
1. Prologue

**Full Description: **  
**It's been 19 years since Voldemort was defeated, and the peace has been kept surprisingly well. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry once again became one of the safest places in the wizarding world, and regular life resumed. A young girl named Enna, who is currently in her Fourth Year at Hogwarts, starts experiencing black outs more and more frequently as time progresses. What she has trouble figuring out, though, is ****_why_**** this is happening to her. Does it have something to do with her mysterious past? Or is it maybe the sign of trouble brewing? Only time will tell. Of course things aren't as simple as that. Along with her ongoing questions of 'why' she has to take place in a bias going on between muggle borns and pure bloods. Only this time it's different than before.**

* * *

September 1st, the start of a new school year, started out like any other year. Confused and nervous First years were bustling about, the Seventh years were walking around like they were all that, and there was an anxious atmosphere that almost everyone could feel - and was even adding to. Children waved at their parents, parents hugged their children, tears were shed, laughter was rand, and all the while no one cared to notice a young looking girl making her way through King's Cross Station.

The girl was notably small, her dull red hair seemingly amplified by her hurry, making it seem like embers catching fire. In all honest she looked like Second year, or maybe even a First, not at all appearing as old as she really was. Truthfully, she didn't care. If people underestimated her then that was their mistake, wasn't it?

After a sharp turn the girl found herself in front of Platform Nine and Three Quarters, a grim expression on her pale little face. If anyone had bothered to look in her way they might have thought she looked a tad bit sick, and would have perhaps worried over her chalky paler. Really, though, it was nothing new. She always looked this way: and she was proud of her appearance. She wasn't the most pretty girl, had never been quite popular, and didn't fit many people's ideal opinion of what a witch should be. But, again, she was who she was. She was born this way, and she saw no need to hide that.

A fluffy black cat was plucked off the floor and into the girl's arms, held tightly in an embrace against her chest, and then suddenly she was off. Pushing her cart ahead of her she ran straight into the platform, not even flinching. Just like that, she disappeared. No one noticed. No one had been looking. Muggles these days were so unobservant that it was really no wonder that they had been biased against before. They took things as they were and didn't ask questions. Foolish, really.

For a few minutes the fourteen year old just stood there, admiring the commotion around her. It was truly amazing how many people came to Hogwarts each year, and even more amazing that she was used to it. This was nothing. Pink lips parted in a sigh at the sight of a mother tightly embracing her daughter, wiping away the poor girl's tears. It was probably a First year. They usually always cried. It was nothing new, nor nothing to be made fun of.

"En_na_!" She was shook out of her own thoughts by the sound of a high pitched voice putting emphasis on the last syllable of her name, the sound of it nearly making her jump. She Enna whirled around, her coat swishing around her fragile-seeming body, and she was greeting with the all too familiar sight of her best friend. "Enna, you won't _believe_ how excited I am! Fourth years! Can you believe it!? I just can't wait until our first trip to Hogsmead."

She couldn't help it. A small laugh made its way out of her, and she quickly lifted a hand to her mouth, muffling the sound. Her excitable friend somehow always made everything seem less serious. Which really that was one of the reasons she enjoyed her company so much. Evana Malfoy was truly something. She had white looking hair, skin paler than Enna, and ice blue eyes, giving her the typical look that mostly all of her family had.

The Malfoys were a notable family, one that most in the wizarding world. They had played a big part in the war, or at least an important enough one so as that it was remembered. Draco Malfoy, a seemingly somewhat cold man, had given birth to three children, the youngest being Evana. The Malfoys had changed. Though they were still a respected and revered family, they weren't active muggle haters anymore, and - in fact - the Malfoy's eldest child was in a relationship with a muggle born. Still, despite all of this, Evana was still a rare creature. She was outgoing, friendly, loud, and eccentric, but she was always able to make people smile. Don't make the mistake of saying that she shouldn't be a Slytherin, though, oh no. Whenever the time called she was just as cunning and ambitious as all Slytherins should be. And she was truly a great friend.

"You know, if you don't stop blubbering and start walking we're going to miss the train!" Almost as if her words had called for it, the train's whistle blew, signaling that all students needed to be onboard the train within five minutes. Enna smirked knowingly at her friend, before her expression fell into her usual embodiment of indifference.

Just like that another school year began, no one suspecting that things would be changing drastically, and all too soon. No one even suspected that the peace would be interrupted so drastically, or the major role Enna would play in it. Just like The Boy Who Lived, Enna Weasley would be remembered. For good or for bad is yet to be known.


	2. A New Term Begins

To say that things were perfect in the wizarding world would not exactly be a lie. In many ways things really were wonderful, and everything was going smoother than it ever had before. But along with the peace there came a strange sense of forthcoming, a creeping feeling that made its way into peoples' bones and sent shivers down their spines. It was a feeling that came with a promise. The peace would end. The peace always end. There was no changing that, no matter how much certain people would like things to be different.

Enna Weasley was a strong believer of the theory that one evil soul left with tons of other good ones would never turn out well. She believed that the single evil soul would be enough to corrupt others, rather than the popular belief that the good would change the bad. Again, though, some people believed Enna to be a pessimist, which was something she strongly disagreed with. As she would say she wasn't a pessimist. She was realist.

The ride to Hogwarts went pretty easy, passing by in quick instants filled with chatter, laughter, and the occasional shout coming from the surrounding compartments. If it were left up to Enna she would honestly prefer to sleep during the whole ride, but Evana wouldn't allow that. Oh, no, certainly not. As the red headed girl was just lying herself comfortably down on her seat, her arms pillowing her head, a grim expression of determination passed over Evana's sharp features, making her look more like the Malfoy she was. Sleep was barely starting to overtake the small girl when she heard a loud bang, forcibly pulling her out of her little lull. Standing beside her seat was her best friend, who was holding her wand in her hand, having apparently caused the ruckus. Green eyes narrowed in an accusatory glare, and Enna pushed herself up from her position in an action so quickly normal people would have done a double take. Evana, fortunately, was used to how eccentric the other could get on occasion, and instead of returning the glare grinned, her icy blue eyes lighting up in excitement.

"What?" Enna snapped, realizing that her friend had no intention of starting the conversation or explaining her actions. This should have annoyed her, though on the contrary she found herself fighting back a rueful smile. Things like this happened all the time when the two girls were brought together.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to get something to snack on," Evana replied, her voice set in an all too innocent tone, as if she had only shaken the other awake, instead of causing an explosion. In her eyes, though, the two things were probably very nearly the same thing.

"No."

"Oh, come on, Weasley! I know you're just dying for some chocolate!" The blonde haired girl raised an almost invisible eyebrow in what Enna presumed was triumph.

"Don't call me that," she nearly growled, physically paling, before she mentally (and somewhat physically) shook herself.

"Oh, come off it. Just because you were adopted doesn't mean that it's not your name, you know. Because it is. The Weasleys are your family. They have been since you were an ickle little baby! Oh, and I bet you were so cute, pooping yourself all the ti-"'

"I'll go get that chocolate," Enna said, successfully cutting off and silencing the other. Though Evana was a good person she didn't understand. She slid open the compartment door and stepped out, shutting it behind her, and turned on her heel, going off to search for the snack cart. She supposed she should have told Evana to pay, but some part of her just couldn't do it. She loathed being in someone's debt, and she doubted she was going to buy much anyway.

As she walked her expression slowly turned more and more into a brooding one, her thoughts trailing off to details of her past. Or, more precisely, questions about her past. She had been adopted when she was three years old (and despite what Evana had said she had been toilet trained) and taken into the Weasley family, by none other than the infamous George Weasley and his wife Angelina. They were a well off family, though Enna had learned that it hadn't always been that way, as George hadn't always had his joke shop. She had been welcomed with open arms into the Weasley family. That wasn't the problem. It was the fact that she didn't fit in. Despite her red hair and blood status there was really nothing she had in common with the family. She didn't have that good of a sense of humor, she didn't particularly enjoy pranks, and she certainly wasn't an outgoing person. Instead she was lazy, cynical, and sometimes even downright mean. Not to mention that she was the first 'Weasley' child to be sorted into Slytherin.

None of that was what bothered her. Not really. It was the unknown things that haunted her, and the sick feeling she got in her stomach whenever she thought about her birth family that really got to her. Who was she? Why was she born? Why was she given away? Why hadn't she been wanted? Was she not good enough? Not what her real family had expected? Was there something wrong with her, something so wrong that she wasn't worth loving? She didn't know. Sometimes she wasn't even sure if she wanted to know. But her undying curiosity always brought her right back to her questions, always had her wondering.

She finally arrived at the food cart and ordered a few sweets, not paying too much attention to the task at hand as she handed over a Galleon, not even caring enough to wait for the lady to hand her back a few sickles. As she turned around, her thoughts still distracting her, she bumped right into someone's chest, rebounding back a few steps before she caught herself. Her eyes automatically narrowed as she looked up (remember that she was fairly short) and caught sight of a Ravenclaw she didn't remember the name of. Without apologizing for her clumsiness she straightened up, brushing off her ropes, and made to go pass the boy she had bumped into. Obviously things weren't that easy. They never were.

The Ravenclaw stepped into her path, smirking at her with a false sympathetic look. Right. Weren't the Slytherins the ones with the bad reputations? Though she already knew this, the boy helped strengthen her belief that no matter which house you were sorted into you were still you. You didn't have to obey the stereotypes or be exactly what anyone expected you to be. She knew that she should have bowed her head and apologized, but automatically her temper flared, stubborn irritation flowing through her veins.

"Get out of my way." It was a simple order, stated in an indifferent tone. This was the warning. If she had to ask again things wouldn't be pretty. She really couldn't care less if she got into trouble. She was already in a bad move from the questions pounding through her head. She didn't have time for something like this.

"Tch. Are you going to exert yourself to force me? With that small body? Oh, do I need to put this in stupid terms for you, Weasley? Here, how's this?" He sneered at her, before continuing, "Make. Me."

"I'm actually fairly surprised you know my name. It only shows that you go out of your way to pay attention to me, because honestly I don't have the slightest clue who you are. That's how unimportant you are." She slid her wand out of her sleeve, a slightly maniacal grin making its way to her face. "And trust me. I won't have a problem making you mo- AH!"

An excruciating pain shot through her body, the feeling so bad that her vision went white. Automatically her hands went out to search for something to hold onto, but after a few seconds Enna realized she couldn't move. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. This wasn't right. Another cry bubbled from her lips, sounding foreign to her ears. She wasn't weak. She really wasn't. Why was her body doing this? She didn't know her legs had given out until she felt the wind whooshing past her face. The impact never came. Something caught her, steadying her, though she still couldn't see. She was starting to panic. Her heart beat was too fast. None of this was right.

"What's going on here?" An enraged voice questioned, followed by the sound of footsteps. Her weight shifted and she could tell she was being moved from one person to the other. She wanted to open her mouth. She wanted to voice her own questions. Just as she was about to do so another wave of absolute agony surged through her, and a part of her brain realized that the pain was coming in waves. There was a pattern. Something was definitely wrong.

"I didn't do it! She was just standing here and talking to me and then this happened! I don't know!" The Ravenclaw kid must be talking. She had expected to hear a bit of sarcasm in his voice (or maybe even fear that he would get in trouble), but she was surprised to notice concern. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Maybe.

Then, just like it had started, everything stopped. Just like that. The pain vanished from her limbs, an echo of the feeling all that she had left. Her vision came back as well as the ability to move, and a gasp shook her body. Enna wrenched herself from the person's arms, stabling herself against the wall. She didn't need help.

Once she had gotten a handle on things she looked at the new arrival, noticing that it was another Slytherin. Her name was Johanna, she believed. A sixth year. Enna frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the shocked stares she was getting from the other two. She was tempted to slap the look off of their faces, but the violent urge was followed by a feeling of resignation. She wouldn't hurt the people who had just helped her. It wouldn't feel right to her. So instead of anything else she turned around and pushed her way past the dumbfounded Ravenclaw (huh, that was a rare sight). A few spluttered calls to wait were shouted after her, but she waved them off with a simple gesture and walked purposely back to her compartment.

Whatever it was that had just happened freaked her out, but she didn't see any reason to cause a scene about it. If things got too bad she could always go to Madam Pomfrey once they arrived. Hopefully things wouldn't come to that. Enna had always hated drawing attention to herself over things like this. If she wanted people to stare at her then it should be because of something she was in control of and definitely not something that could incapacitate her like the pain had. No. No one should ever see her like that. Not even Madam Pomfrey.

When she slid back into her compartment she was distracted again, which was something Evana certainly didn't agree with. When Enna sat down idly on her side of the room and started to stare out the window, even more questions than usual began to plague her. This was no good. Coming back to Hogwarts was supposed to be exciting. Something like this should never have happened. So, just like that, she did her best to forget about it. She shifted so that she was facing Evana and sighed.

"Where are my chocolates?" Evana asked, her tone making it obvious that if she didn't get something sweet she would kill, or at the very least throw a tantrum. Enna's hands went down to the pockets in her robes and groped, before she realized that she had dropped all the candy she had just bought. Well, wasn't that dandy? She muttered incoherent curses under her breath, fished out a Galleon and tossed it at the unsuspecting blonde.

"Didn't buy any. You can go get some."

Evana gave her a disapproving glance, taking in a big breath as if she were about to start ranting about the importance of chocolate, but before she could Enna threw another Galleon at her, mentally reprimanding herself for using the money so easily. If George or Angelina could see her they would be disappointed.

"Just go get the bloody candy!"

As Evana walked out of the compartment, looking slightly taken aback, she fell into silence, having nothing to do but think. She didn't want to think right now, not when there were so many things to stress about. So instead she stared out the window and imagined a magical cat running along the side and jumping through and over the trees, as if dodging obstacles. To be honest that was probably the highlight of her day, which was saying something since it was only around One' o'clock.

This year was definitely going to be tiresome, but then again, most great adventures were.


End file.
